


Prompt Dark Four; Humiliation & Torture

by MelodiousPoison



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Gore, Dark, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Humiliation, Kinktober 2017, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 17:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12281319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodiousPoison/pseuds/MelodiousPoison
Summary: Lotor uses flattery when he faced someone but his victims knew the truth. He was cruel, maybe even more than his father. At least Zarkon would grant a quick death. No, Lotor loved to play with his toys as he broke them.





	Prompt Dark Four; Humiliation & Torture

I am an architect of flesh, blood and agony.

 

I look at my pets and I see their captivity of the physical as merely the proclamation of pure, unadulterated release. I strip away the mundane leaving only the shattered painting of their bodies, mutilated but made whole.

 

My latest, Lance. Ordinary, albeit a vibrant gash of the mundane on the fabric of the world. Brash, relentless in his pursuit of freedom of delights. Hidden away, though was the darkened edges of his psyche. Not good enough, not smart enough, useless, annoying, obnoxious, unloved.

 

His eyes are quite captivating as I slid my hands around his waist, blue, brighter than a cloudless sky in the desert, set against his skin. Untamed and he is all mine to break. His lips were soft even as the words flowed out of him in between were fuelled with bark and gasoline.

 

Friends become lovers as I led him down the quiet halls, his breath heavy against me. He doesn’t know, how could he know. I do not promise him pleasure, I only promise that he would be made complete beneath my hands. Despite this, his hands roam over my skin and it feels wonderful.

 

I took him slowly to start, watching his hapless form as it lays in the bowels of the house my family own. They indulge me as I turn my eyes away from the activities they partake in themselves. Ah, but what they do is not my concern. My latest canvas waits for me even as he shivers against concrete.

 

His eyes open, blearily, pupils dilated but that delightful shade of blue, considered celeste or is it the ordinary sky blue that people rave about through the centuries? It mattered little except it shone in the dark, even in his muddled state. Unsettling and exciting, he truly was beautiful even if naïve.

 

His words were muffled against the bonds, I will remove in time when he was weaker and pliant. For now, I was content in watching him strain and fight his fate, softly humming even as his body remained taut with vicious feelings, surely spinning inside and out.

 

Why? I feel that answer burn through him like the most bitter of poison as I finally stand in front of him. Why are you doing this? I deliver a swift to his ribs, not too hard, he was a sculpture, not my plaything. Not yet. Why are you hurting me? I kneel to the curled ball of Lance and force him to consider my eyes. His anxiety leaked through his pores, clogging the room with the acrid scent of fear. He did not fear for his life, no. Why did you choose me? I bite down into his neck as he squirms, only spurring my desire to ruin the unblemished, fragile skin, breaking as salt-rich liquid fills my mouth. Why would anyone care?

 

Mouth bloodied and drenched from Lance’s neck, my tongue licks swipes over my lip appreciatory. He tasted divine. Lightly pecking him over the cloth, I move back swiftly even as he turns towards me as if returning ardour. Lance, cracked the back of his head onto the ground with a muffled cry. I saw right through the attempt to headbutt me, he truly was belligerent to the last. There is a certain loveliness in the harsh, untamed nature of his unbroken spirit. A more satisfying snap when it falls apart.

 

His actions to try escape would not surprise me but punishment for trying regardless would not be remiss. Returning to my office, I looked over the selection I have collected over my hobby; chainsaws, scalpels, paints, and fabrics. Of course, I have more but those were my favourite. Brutality versus finesse right down to the sounds that echo through the empty halls, promising no salvation. My hands linger over my tools, an extension of my will made the reality. He will be my greatest masterpiece so time was required. Stopping, I found exactly what I needed.

 

Lance, heavily dazed and immobile, could only stare as he was forced awake with nails gouging into the raw wound from earlier. His captor smiled wickedly before he manhandled him, dragging his body even as he remained limp. Lance wanted to scream but nothing was coming beyond his lips. Drugged his mind feverish with fear repeated constantly. He must have been drugged.

 

Lotor held down the right foot, drawing small spirals along his ankle with the end of the scalpel. He was doing this earlier in the after the haze of sex, lazy circles along the toned, unblemished skin of Lance. It felt differently then, appraising and worshipping his body. Lance thought it was love, Lotor only saw it as art.

 

A single tear slides down his cheek, not out of remorse. No, a start, a renewal, a promise was being made tonight. He cuts through the Achilles tendon, even as Lance’s eyes were glazed over in his drug-addled state. He very much imagines that he is in the throes of despair. Lotor smiles before dropping the useless slab of meat to the ground. He needed to repeat the process for the other.

Once that was done, he begins crafting after he carefully bandages the injury. Lotor truly suffered for his craft. He winds ribbons around the ruined area, in hues similar to that blue he was captivated with, hints of violet and a single red ribbon for each foot. Looking over his work, Lotor sighed, he would like to play more but this will have to do.

 

I leave Lance with food and a note saying it was inadvisable to attempt to walk on the damaged foot. He probably will try crawl but truly there is no escape. I couldn’t help but hum as I entered the school campus, the crisp air and crunching beneath my feet never felt more. Wondrous.

 

“Lotor! Good morning.”

 

Turning my head, I smile at the pretty young thing in front of me. Similar to Lance with those eyes but they were controlled, refined. She would prove to be a worthy replacement. Accidents happen after all. What was her name again?

 

Ah yes.

 

Allura.


End file.
